by Brian Parker
“She works at a place with sex bots?”
“Yeah, she’s the manager of a club called The Digital Diva; it’s a pleasure club in Easytown that offers high-end robot prostitutes.”
“The proverbial Mary Magdalene,” Amir mumbled.
I searched my memory for his reference. The name sounded familiar, but I couldn’t quite grasp it. Finally, I asked, “Who’s that?”
“She was a deaconess in the early Church. Depending on your interpretation of the scripture, she may or may not have been a prostitute before she became a follower of Jesus,” he chuckled uncomfortably. “It just fit the moment. Sorry, I didn’t mean to bring up her profession.”
“You know me, Amir. I don’t get offended easily, especially when my best friend is comparing me to Jesus. I mean, I know I’m a saint and all—”
“Ah, you bastard!” Amir laughed. “Not what I meant. I meant that even Mary Magdalene could change her ways for the right reasons. Maybe this girl will change her ways if things work out between you.”
“Oh! I get it now. No, she’s not a prostitute, never was. She’s the manager of the club, not one of the working girls, or robots in this case.”
The feeling of tension drained away from the room as Amir smiled, reaching up to place an arm around my shoulder. “I was worried there for a moment, Zach.”
“You know I couldn’t ever date someone who worked as a prostitute. The department’s Immorality Clause forbids that sort of activity.”
“Yes, but you have always marched to the beat of your own drum, my friend. Sometimes you act as if rules don’t apply to you.”
“Only the dumb ones,” I retorted. “I follow all the ones that make sense.”
“That is what I mean,” Amir said, pointing with one finger, the rest wrapped around his half-empty glass. “You pick and choose what rules to follow. They are put in place for a reason, usually voted on by the public—or at least by the City Council, who are voted into office by the public.”
I thought about Councilman Jefferson’s attitude at the Diva the other night and his blatant disdain for the city’s procedures. During my brief interaction with him, I got the feeling that he was the kind of guy who’d take a bribe and I doubted that he was putting policy into place for the best interest of the community.
I chose to keep the councilman’s extra-curricular activities to myself and changed the subject. “So, what’s this about Teagan getting upset over at the Pharaoh? Did she have a boyfriend break up with her or something?”
An odd frown passed over Amir’s face before he covered it up and turned away to refill his glass. “No, she doesn’t have a boyfriend that I know of. I shouldn’t have mentioned it, except that she clearly made her point when you were there, so you already know something is wrong.” He sighed as he pulled the stopper off the decanter. “More?”
“Sure,” I replied holding my glass out.
He took it and turned back away from me. “She’s got a crush on someone—actually, at this point, I’d say it’s more of an infatuation, but I don’t want it to seem like she’s stalking him. She’s not. She found out that he was dating someone else and it drove her crazy.”
Part of my job is to read people; it was especially easy to do with a man whom I’d known for twenty years. Amir’s mannerisms practically screamed that he was covering something up. “What is it? I know you’re not telling me the whole truth.”
He turned around, surprised. “How do you— I’m not lying. Everything I said is the truth.”
Unfortunately, my job also forced me to see the darker side of humanity and my mind turned to murder, torture and rape. “Is she in some sort of trouble?”
Amir held up his hands. “No. Please, Zach. I can’t betray her trust. She’s perfectly safe—although, her choice of apartment locations could use an improvement.”
“Okay. If you’re not lying, then you’re certainly not telling me everything. I assume that it means the person she likes doesn’t even know about her crush.”
“Well, he’s completely blind if he can’t see that she adores him.” He swirled his drink and took an uncomfortable gulp. Why is he so antsy? I wondered.
“Teagan’s a confused young lady who’s set her heart on the wrong guy,” Amir continued. “Amanda and I spend so much time at the restaurant that we have become her unofficial shoulders to cry upon. It’ll pass with time, I assure you.”
I didn’t need to get involved in college girl problems; I was way too busy potentially violating department regulations on my own with Paxton. “You’re sure she’s not in trouble?” I asked.
“Positive. Hand on the Bible. She’s just having some problems that she’ll work out soon.”
Even though he was keeping something from me, I trusted Amir to let me know if something was truly wrong, so I let it drop. “How are the kids?” I asked. I hadn’t seen them since I walked in, normally they mauled me the moment I came through the door.
“Anna is at her friend’s house for the day. I’m not sure where the other two have gotten off to.”
I smiled and nodded my head knowingly. If I were to guess, Amy and Amir, Jr. were probably upstairs playing video games. Amir had opened the door before I rang the doorbell or knocked, so they didn’t even know we were here.
“I’m sure they’ll turn up,” I stated as I took another sip of my bourbon and then sat on the sofa. “I missed the Saints game earlier; do you know who won?”
Amir turned on the television and sat beside me. “Nope. Amanda had me at the grocery store picking up the roast so I missed it too. Let’s check.”
The Khalils refused to purchase an AI interface—primarily because of Amanda’s outright hatred of all things robotic—so he still had to do everything manually, like going to the grocery store and turning on the television himself. He had the latest holoprojection screen which used dual-layered static background and holographic projections of the moving figures. The tech was way over my head and too pricey for my wallet, but the images it produced were beautiful.
“New Orleans Saints highlights from today’s game,” Amir said as he held a button on the arm of his chair. The voice command module was about as high tech as my friend got.
The screen flared to life with the stadium displayed on the screen and the players running around the field projected into Amir’s study as an announcer talked about the game. The first few seconds were disorienting, as always, until the viewer’s brain organized the images and then it became as clear as Czech crystal.
We watched, mesmerized as the Saints demolished the Falcons. Bones crunched around us while muscles and tendons tore audibly, filling the small study with the sounds of gridiron battle. It was an impressive victory over our inland rivals from Atlanta.
The scene switched to highlights from a boxing match, which was just as entertaining on Amir’s television. I bobbed my head out of the way of a punch and looked sheepishly at Amir, who laughed at my movement.
“I still do that sometimes,” he stated. “It takes a while to get used to.”
Amanda’s hands wiggled in between the two boxers in the hologram and she opened her arms like she was swimming the breast stroke. The image of the two men separated, but they continued to dance around one another and react to the punches thrown by the boxer on the opposite side of our new intruder.
“Are you boys ready to eat?”
Amir punched the button on the remote that turned off the television. “Yes. We were just catching up on the Saints game. We won.”
“Good. I’m sure that will keep Zach in a positive mood through dinner.”
“I’ll be on my best behavior. Promise,” I replied.
“Come on. Paxton is setting the table and I want you to eat before the roast cools.”
We followed along dutifully behind her and I almost had a heart attack when a zombie and a vampire jumped out of the bathroom as we walked by.
“Boo!” the children screamed in unison.
Amanda, unfazed by
her children’s antics waived them off. “Get back in there and wash your hands,” she admonished. “Sorry, Zach. This is the last time we buy their Halloween costumes a month early.”
Amir chuckled behind me. “Those two have been at it all week. I almost peed my pants the first couple of times, but now I’ve come to expect it.”
“So, you knew your kids were sneaking around when you told me that you didn’t know where they were?” I asked.
“Sorry,” he shrugged. “I didn’t want to ruin their fun.”
“That’s twice today you’ve lied to me, Amir. What’s next, are you going to tell me that the food down at the Pharaoh is laced with synthaine or something?” I asked, mentioning the dangerous new designer drug that junkies put into their eyes for faster absorption. Anyone caught with the substance was automatically sent to Sabatier Island for a mandatory month-long detox no questions asked.
“I…” Amir stopped, unsure if he’d crossed some sort of invisible line.
I placed an arm on his shoulder and felt the warmth of my drink tingle along its length. “I’m just kidding you, buddy. Let’s go eat, I’m starving.”
Dinner was nice and for once, I didn’t feel like the third wheel in the Khalil house. Paxton was a perfect dinner companion and I was surprised by her table manners. It was as if she’d been taught right out of an etiquette manual. The more I was around the woman, the more I realized how out of place she seemed at an establishment like The Digital Diva and I wondered how she ended up working in Easytown.
On the way back to the apartment, I asked her about it. Her response was noncommittal. I felt like there was a story there, possibly something with her parents, but didn’t want to pry too far into a subject she was obviously uncomfortable with, so I dropped it.
The BMW dropped us off at my apartment in Village de L’Est. I’m sure the lobby area, which consisted of a set of mailboxes and a trashcan, was a major disappointment to Paxton compared to hers. If it bothered her, though, she didn’t say anything.
We walked up the stairs to the third floor. The elevator had been broken for months and I’d been unlucky enough to be the one inside when it decided to stop working. It had taken the techs almost an hour to arrive.
The hallway outside my apartment was brightly lit, but I still checked the corners before I indicated the way for Paxton. The incident at my St. Roch apartment had taught me to be wary and I was even more on guard than normal since somebody had tried to kill me the night before.
“Andi, I’m home,” I announced when I walked through the door.
“Hello, Zach,” she replied. “I see you’ve brought your guest home with you again. Hello, Miss Himura.”
I draped my coat over a hook near the doorway to allow it to dry properly and took Paxton’s coat to do the same. “Zach, you should offer her something to drink.”
I glanced in annoyance at the AI’s camera lens. “I was just about to, Andi. Do we have any wine?”
Andi’s robotic laugh floated in the air. “No, you don’t have any wine. The refrigerator has four bottles of IPA and you have three bottles of bourbon in the cupboard.”
“That’s okay,” Paxton said. “I’ll take a water, please.”
“You know, that sounds like a good idea, I haven’t drank enough water today either.” I set her bags down beside the couch. “Make yourself at home. I’ll go get the drinks. Ice or no ice?”
“No ice, please.”
I nodded and walked into the kitchen as Paxton sat on the couch, pulling her phone from a pocket.
“Zach, Paxton Himura does not meet the profile of your perfect woman,” Andi said as soon as I walked into the kitchen.
“Jesus, Andi. Volume to one.” I opened a cabinet and selected two glasses. “What do you mean by my perfect woman?”
The faces of four women appeared above the sink with their names, ages and occupations displayed below each. Andi had selected three Caucasian girls, two with dark brown hair and one with auburn hair and tanned skin, and one African American. I stared in disbelief at the television. There was a message indicator in the corner with fifty-seven messages in it.
“Didn’t I tell you not to do this?”
The images switched to a 360-degree rotating view of the four women’s bodies. All were average size, not too thin or too heavy, and each of them had visible muscle definition in their arms and shoulders. One of the brown-haired girls slouched like she may have self-esteem issues, she was out… Wait, what am I doing?
“Dammit, Andi. I don’t need an online dating site.” Then the realization hit me that if I was seeing Andi’s list, she must have made a profile for me. “Andi, what does the profile you wrote for me say?” I asked in horror.
“White, thirty-four years old, five feet eleven inches tall, handsome, brown hair, blue eyes, forty-four inch chest, thirty three inch waist, clean shaven professional seeking woman in early to mid-thirties for a relationship and potential marriage. Enjoys sex, bourbon and work. Wants children.”
I picked my jaw up off the floor. “Oh my God, Andi. Take that down, now! I’ve managed to find a beautiful, entertaining and classy woman all on my own and that’s what you’ve been doing?” I jabbed my finger at the television screen.
“Paxton Himura is employed at a questionable establishment and works for an unconvicted criminal,” Andi replied. “I do not like the idea of you dating someone like that, Zach.”
“You don’t like? Andi, you’re a goddamned computer program.” I was pissed and the bourbon I’d drank earlier at Amir’s house still coursed through my veins. “You don’t have feelings, you have layer upon layer of programming and years of observational learning. This is one of those times when you need to understand human thought processes and simply can’t because you’re a machine.”
I filled the glasses and walked back into the living room. The green indicator light on Andi’s camera was dark, meaning she was not watching or listening, I’d pissed her off.
She was only trying to help, in her own way. I wondered if I’d gone too far with her. Part of her programming also included the ability to simulate emotions—or at least as much as I could afford, true replication of human emotions was astronomically expensive…and a little scary.
“Everything okay in there?” Paxton asked. “I thought I heard arguing.” She accepted the glass of water and took a sip as I sat down.
“Ahh…” I shrugged and then placed my own glass on the coffee table. “Andi has taken it upon herself to find me a date.”
One of Paxton’s eyebrows arched upward. “Do you typically have your computer find women for you?”
“No! Of course not. That’s what I was upset about. I’ve told her on multiple occasions that I wasn’t interested in online dating, but she keeps trying to push the issue. She says I need a woman in my life to help me be a more well-rounded person. She didn’t know about you, obviously.”
“That’s ridiculous. You don’t need another person in your life to be well-rounded. I’m perfectly adjusted and I haven’t had a boyfriend in…well, in forever. You can be fine without needing someone else to validate your existence.”
“I agree. I don’t think that way either. It’s just some study that she downloaded somewhere.”
Paxton placed her glass beside mine and in a fluid motion that reminded me of a cat, she went from leaning forward beside me to straddling my hips. “I do think that having someone around is a lot more fun, though,” she said, pressing her pelvis down against me.
I lifted against her. “We seem to agree about a lot of things, Miss Himura.”
Andi’s light came back on, but I was too busy to correct her.
NINE: MONDAY
Monday morning came entirely too early for my tastes. When I’d agreed to Dr. Jones’ proposal of a meeting in the morning, I hadn’t been expecting to stay awake late into the night.
I sat up and yawned. Paxton stirred slightly beside me and I admired her toned backside. Even lying on her side, sleeping, she
had an amazing body with milky, smooth skin. Some things are worth being tired for, I thought.
The toilet computer’s chime told me it was about to start again. “Urine test complete. Zachary Forrest, you have elevated levels…” I tuned it out. Even the annoying toilet wasn’t going to ruin my mood today.
Andi’s usual morning chatter was conspicuously absent as I turned on the shower and waited for it to warm up. I would need to apologize to her for trying to help. Maybe I’d have a discussion with her about emotions and the fact that I didn’t need a woman in my life. If I found one accidentally, then that was different, but I didn’t want to go out seeking somebody.
I stepped under the warm stream and switched it to a combination of body jets and overhead spray. I heard the toilet beep again and say something muffled to Paxton before the contents of the bowl flushed away.
She slid the shower door open a crack. “Can I join you?” she whispered.
“Of course. We have water restrictions in New Orleans, haven’t you heard?” I deadpanned.
She opened the door fully and gave me a strange look. “Yes, I know about the water restrictions.”
I laughed and reached out, pulling her into the shower with me. She accepted my invite, but the look remained on her face. “It’s a joke,” I said.
“Oh. I don’t get it.”
“It’s funny because I know you know about the water restrictions.”
She smiled. “Oh… Well, I guess it’s funny.”
I let it drop and lathered her backside with the bar of soap. Apparently joking wasn’t one of Paxton’s strong suits.
“I’ve gotta go downtown this morning to talk to the department psychologist about the case.”
“Do you need me to leave?”
“No, you’re welcome to stay here and we can go out to lunch when I get back.”
She used her body to transfer the soap onto me, wiggling her hips from side to side. “I’d love to go to lunch with you.”
I convulsed involuntarily in pleasure. The couple of minutes that I normally spent in the shower stretched to twenty. My water bill was going to be sky-high this month.